


Royal Treatment

by Just_Call_Me_Floss



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF
Genre: AU, Angst, BodyguardBen, Crack, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Long, M/M, Multi, Multiple chapters, PrinceJoe, RPF, Slow Burn, like seriously, questionable knowledge on royals, royal au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:54:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26411449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Call_Me_Floss/pseuds/Just_Call_Me_Floss
Summary: Joseph Francis Mazzello The Third just so happens to be born a prince. He gets the life many wants. But it's not that great, really. Not when people are assuming they know him just because of his family name, filling in blank details with absurd ideas.He's meant to be married to Princess Lucy Boynton. They're meant to be the 'it' couple, having all the medias attention. They'd been 'betrothed' to each other for years. Yeah, they get on, they'd make a great couple. Only problem is they're in love with other people.Benjamin Hardy. Bodyguard of the stars. He's been working this trade since he was 16. But when the king dies and all attention is brought to the Mazzello children, he gets pulled in to a world he never imagined he'd be a part of.Parties, events and social gatherings galore, it's not easy being the bodyguard to the prince many believe should've been king. It's even harder when you have a crush on him.
Relationships: Ben Hardy/Joe Mazzello, Lucy Boynton/Rami Malek
Comments: 21
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here we are guys. Another long fic.   
> I had this idea literally last night, screamed about it for like an hour to my friend, and now we're here... Hope you'll stick with me through this - I have quite a few ideas, and already half written the next chapter, but please, if you have ideas, let me know in the comments below!

burn Another day, another camera flash. Joe sighed, keeping his sombre eyes onward and hands buried deep in his pockets as he lengthed his steps to get inside as quickly as he could. He heard the shouts from the wall of journalists, yet ignored them. A week after his father’s funeral, and they still hounded him as if he was hung for slaughter.

That’s what he got, he supposed, for being born into the Royal Family. 

A gentle hand in the centre of his back led him inside, Archie, head of security, ensuring the middle child of the Mazzello Royals got inside safely. The heavy door of the side entranced closed behind them, and instantly, Joe’s shoulders relaxed. Now in the private quarters of the palace, he could drop the carefully made media perfect facade and just be Joe. Not Prince Joseph Francis Mazzello The Third, but just good old Joey, the jokester of the family. Although his jokes had fallen silent this last month.

When a family member or someone close to you dies, it’s expected that you’d go into shock and mourn. People will be respectful, stay silent on difficult topics and give you time to grieve. But not when you live in the public eye. As he’d walked out of the hospital with tears streaming down his face and a sob stuck in the back of his throat, some cameras had flashed down the end of the street, managing to get pictures of him, his siblings and mother on the few short steps they’d taken to the car. Tinted windows didn’t do much to keep privacy when lenses were shoved up against them, and armoured vehicles did jack-shit to hold back the words and accusations shouted at them as they’d been hurriedly driven away. 

So here he stood, head tilted back as he blinked back the tears threatening to overspill and let out a shaky breath. He’d been left alone, finally, except for Archie, but he was like Joe’s shadow right now. He turned to hang up his winter coat, black for mourning and to match his mood and heavy wool to protect from the winter winds. Shoes off next, kicked messily against the side table. The scarf was thrown into the pile because fuck it, he was sad, he could dump things on the floor. He’d just been to see his grieving mother, of course, his first thought wasn’t going to be ‘oh it’s Armani, it has to be hung up too’. No, it was going to be ‘oh my god I’m so fucking sad’. He kicked his boot in a little sign of annoyance. 

His mother had moved out of the palace the night after her husband died. She couldn’t cope with the constant reminder of him, so had gone up north to a privately owned manor. Virginia found it easier, somehow, pretending to be just a ‘normal’ person. She’d married into the royal lifestyle, and in some way, she craved to be out of it. But she’d never admitted it. She’d married the love of her life, had three children with him, and now had grandchildren too. It just so happened he had been the King. 

Archie would be going soon, he just needed to ensure that Joe wasn’t going to jump out the window or something. The first night of being fatherless, Joe had been tempted by an open window, but only for a fleeting second. 

He’d been close to his dad, probably the closest out of the kids, and that was saying something. Growing up, his parents had always prioritised family being first. Press blocks had been put in place until they were the ages of eighteen, they’d never been forced to any event they didn’t want to go too, and they always, always, had a family holiday. Movie nights, game nights and weekend pyjama parties were strong in the Mazzello family. It was a tradition which had only been broken as his fathers’ health had deteriorated. And as he walked down the hallway to the kitchen, Joe traced a finger on a photo of him and his dad he had hanging up. How many times had he touched that smiling face since he’d died? Probably in the hundreds, coming up to the thousands. 

Something simple for dinner tonight. He couldn’t be arsed to try and fumble his way through a recipe, and instead reached into the fridge to pull out a pizza. Prepared by the kitchens, it was a healthy thing, and Joe missed his college days of greasy food. But after someone had attempted to poison his cousin through a takeaway order, they’d been banned. Along with pre-made meals not from the kitchens. He waved it towards Archie, who shook his head and turned down staying for dinner. The Prince would be alright for tonight, so the older man would be leaving shortly. Not too far, the head of security had his own residence on the property and could be here within a matter of moments if needed. 

Joe unwrapped the pizza and chucked it in the oven, not even thinking before he set the timings and temperature. He already knew how long he’d have to wait and he marched over to his liquor cabinet and grabbed the quickly emptying bottle of whiskey from there.

“Now I will have one of those,” Archie spoke up for the first time in over an hour. He heard Joe snort, already having grabbed down two tumblers and splashed a good serving in both, bypassing the ice. It wouldn’t have a chance to melt before the glass was empty.

“Knew you would,” the redhead came around to the kitchen island Archie was leaning against, sliding the amber liquid across to him as he took a steady gulp himself, the hot burn of the alcohol the first thing he’s actually registered feeling today at all. 

They drank in silence, but Joe knew Archie had something to say. He could feel it surrounding them. Growing up with a royal title, Joe quickly learnt to be able to read people. On nearly a daily basis, people had wanted to say something but said something else, and it pissed him off. 

“Sir-” Archie started but cleared his throat when a disapproving hum stopped him. “Joe… I wish to talk to you about security. And what plans have been put into place”

“I don’t know why you’re talking to me about it,” Joe finished off his glass and placed it down heavily. He really shouldn’t have another one, but god he was tempted. “Shouldn’t you be talking to my sister about this? She’s the Queen now”.

Mary, the eldest, had the least time to mourn. At least publically. She was now the monarch, or, well, will be once it is socially acceptable to have a coronation. Since the day she was born, she was being taught how to do it - fluent in seven languages, etiquette lessons from the age of three, speech therapists from five when she developed a stutter, self-defence even younger than that. Joe didn’t envy her. Of course, he and John also had these lessons, but not in their infant stages. Joe could speak five languages, John three. And they’d all been taught dressage and horse jumping. 

“This is in regards to you, and your security,” Archies voice was sure and confident, obviously having thought this over. He had discussed it with Mary, she’d been the one eager to do it, so he knew it had been approved. And had to be done. At the moment, Joe didn’t have security. Well, he did, but hardly anything. More for when he travelled or was out in public for an event or social need. It hadn’t really been a need as he’d gotten older, and they’d bypassed it when he’d moved into the residence.

“I don’t need security-” Joe got up to go grab that whiskey, but a hand on his wrist stopped him. He turned back with daggers in his eyes, only to be levelled with a tired expression. Joe had never seen Archie look anything other than focused. Even when he’d been smiling, or laughing, or even crying, he always had this focused look on him. But now, he just looked tired. It showed his age of just passing 60. He’d been in Joe’s life as long as he can really remember, having come in not long after Mary had been born. He worked his way up from normal security to head of a team, and then further than that until eventually, he’d become the head of security ten years ago.

“Joe, listen, you do. After all that has gone on, there’s a rise in media attention. The press team believe it won’t fall back for a long time,” voice steady and sure, it made the prince sit back down slowly, listening aptly. When Archie spoke like this, he was serious and talking a big business. “Over the last few years, all the attention has been on your father's health. But now it’s on your sister, and in some ways, you. There are still those people who think the next in charge should be you, follow the old way of the eldest son taking power, so the media is humouring those people. We believe it would be best if you had added security. Security just for you, sir”.

Joe let this ‘Sir’ pass. He knew it was serious business when Archie called him that. 

Staring off into the distance, Joe took it all in. He read between the lines, as Archie knew he would, and he knew that with added media attention becomes an added more dark, vicious form of attention. He vaguely remembers when he was a toddler the time someone broke into their residence. Waking up to see a weird woman standing in his bedroom, trying to coax him over to her, talking some shit about him being king. Joe had screamed his throat raw, and for years afterwards, he either slept with his parents or with a nightlight. He’d had added security then. Archie wanting to bring some back again meant there was a high threat. 

“How long until you can get someone in?” Joes tone matched Archie, both knowing that this was more important than either of their words lead to believe. They both also knew that this wasn’t really negotiable at the moment. Maybe after it’s settled, and there’s no longer guns pointed at them, but right now, Joe likely had a good few people aiming for his skull. Or worse, aiming for his sisters.

Within this residence, there is a small bedroom incase of a high security alert. It wasn’t fancy, just a small room with a bed, little television, desk, and an ensuite leading off of it. A microwave also sat in one corner, along with a kettle, so that they wouldn’t have to be in the actual residence with Joe all too often. It had been empty for years, the place not actually being used since Joe moved in here. The door had been closed, so undoubtedly it was full of dust and it’d have to be aired out, but that was the new guys job. A prince didn’t air out rooms. 

“We have someone already set up. They can start any time. Shall I bring over his file?” He wouldn't admit it but Archie had this guy set up over a week ago. Someone he’s worked with previously, someone he knew was dedicated to his employer and would do whatever was needed to protect him, and going off of some of the threats they’d received, this guy would have to be alert.

“Yeah, yeah,” Joe waved his hand around in a nondescript way, just filling the air with some form of movement. The tension had been building steadily, and Joe felt it drag in the room around them, “guess I should learn a bit about my guy. Guessing he’s already been vetted?”

“Come on Joe, I don’t do a half job,” Archie smiled, his shoulders slumping slightly. The tension had broken, and he watched the redhead smile back, “I’ll go get it now”. He downed the rest of his whiskey and stood, Joe not trying to stop him. The man with broad shoulders and way too many muscles for a guy his age started out one of the secure exits as the oven started to beep.

Joe got up and wandered over, grabbing the comic oven mitts his friend had gotten him for Christmas a couple years ago. The pizza did smell nice, even if Joe grumbled endlessly about not being able to call in a Dominos. He was just sitting down with his plate stacked full when Archie was coming back in, large file under his arm. Joe stared at it before grabbing a piece of pizza. “Get the whisky,” he mumbled before biting into his meal.

_____

Waking up at the ass crack of dawn, Joe gave himself a moment to be very un-princey and had a little tantrum at having to wake up so early. But he had too, he had to go and meet this new guy. He went numbly through his routine, blinking once and suddenly it was over without Joe remembering doing anything at all. He sighed around the toothbrush in his mouth. Recently, he’d been like this - either blinking and the day is over, or being hyper aware of every passing second. The therapist he’d been seeing since he was teenager reassured him that this was totally normal to a grieving man, but it felt like he should be able to at least function without missing chunks of his day. His siblings were. God, his sister even spoke to the public two days after.

He dropped his toothbrush into the sink. He’d pick it up later. He’d clean his flat later. He just couldn’t do it now. Running his hands over his face with a groan, he wondered back into his room. Curtains drawn, the only natural light was coming in from the gap between the fabrics, Joe was able to forget about all the mess in here. He kept the kitchen and living area semi-functioning, doesn’t mean he has to keep his more private rooms to the same standard.

Black clothes. He had to wear black. He was going to be out in semi-public, he had to wear black. God, somehow that made it all worse, made the mourning feel more permanent and as if the pain will never end. He guessed it never would. How can one heal when your heart is shattered? 

The sun was soft when he stepped out. He glanced at it, wondering how it can come up every day when it felt like his world had stopped a month ago. Actually, a month to this day. He sighed, rubbing over the bridge of his nose as the chauffeur opened the back door and he slipped in. There hadn’t been any cameras outside today, they were probably out to get his sister, the poor girl. She’d no doubt already be awake, likely realising the day at the same time Joe did. She’d be cursing behind closed doors, holding her kids close at the realisation of life being so fragile. She’d look over at her husband and wonder how they could be so strong in such a weak time. She’d do such a good job keeping this country running. 

Better job than Joe could ever do. 

He watched as long shadows of the morning shifted and changed as they moved through the city. The palace was at the centre, the city building up over time around it. Parks with their names and the names of their ancestors were all over the place, breaking up the highly built up areas with greenery. Early morning light danced through the leaves in some merry way, dabbling the ground below in some happiness which mocked Joes mourning. A month without his dad. Fuck. One whole month and the rest of the world seemed to have moved on around them, leaving the black wearing Mazzellos in their state of mourning.

Archie had decided that maybe it’d be best if they met this new guard in a public setting. Not overly, not like they’re going to a coffee shop or anything, but it’s better than escorting this new guy into the palace to be interrogated by everyone. He’d worked with Archie before, awhile back on a different location he never spoke about, so he knew he was a good man, otherwise he wouldn’t have suggested him to work for the crown. And as Joe had flipped through the file last night, he’d had to admit that this Hardy, B.’s work looked impressive. There’d been a little passport sized photo at the bottom of one of the documents, just showing a blond guy staring directly into the lens. He didn’t look like he’d be a guy up for any jokes. Joe gulped then, as he did now, thinking of having a shadow following him everywhere, monitoring him.

Pulling up to the place, the car moved through a gate way which swung closed behind them, a large clanging noise coming to announce it’s very heavy lock. Joe shifted in his seat, pulling at the sweater he’d put on, damn scarf around his neck again. Had it been a mistake to put it on? Maybe. It could come across as him dressing too fancy, trying too hard, but Joe had done it now, so he guessed the high wool blend scarf would stay on. 

They rounded a courtyard where in the middle, two men stood. One was unmistakably Archie - Joe would know his figure anywhere. He’d been protecting him since he was born, of course he looked up to the man. Next to him though stood a shorter man. A mess of loose curls ruffled in the wind, blond hair near enough glowing in the winter sun, but the soft looking hairstyle was put aside by the hard set jaw. He had sunglasses on, so as they pulled up and Joe let himself out the car, he couldn’t see where the man's eyes were. He stood up straighter, noting the perfect posture on his new guard.

He’d always thought there was a height requirement to be a guard of the crown. They’d always been over 6ft, but as he approaches Hardy, he’s quick to note that he’s very similar in height to Joe himself. Broad shoulders were imposing, leading down to muscles which frankly were rude to be so perfectly sculptured, even in the black uniform under shirt he was currently wearing. But his thighs. Now those would be distracting. Joe eyed him fully, more to see who he was dealing with, and he was sure the man in front of him was doing the same.

“Your Royal Highness”. Joe was taken aback for a moment, eyes snapping up to the sunglasses blocked eyes. Now that was a voice. He’d known he was from Britain, only recently having moved over here in the last few years, but still, fuck. He hadn’t imagined him having such a deep voice. It was almost like a rumble. He’d even done the little neck bow thing that people were meant to do. Joe stuck out his hand, quickly taken in a warm grasp and given a short shake. “Benjamin Hardy, Sir, at your service”.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys 🥺🥺🥺 Your comments are the SWEETEST and I didn't expect this to be so popular already! Thank you to those who came to my tumblr and shouted your love at me!!

It had been all over the news. The King is dead. “That's a pity,” Ben chewed through his bowl of dry cornflakes, shoving them in with his hands. “Seemed a nice enough guy”. He was speaking to no one other than his little beagle pup, and she wasn’t the best at keeping up a conversation. Still, he commented on the dark news coming up. He winced when he saw the shaky video footage of the family leaving the hospital through the back entrance. “Poor bastards, can’t they get any peace?” He jabbed at his remote until it changed the channel.

Ben worked in security. Recently, it has been the Kardashians. Not bad people, but also far from being the best. He had the day off today, and god, was he making the most out of it. His little flat wasn’t much, but it was a place he could walk around shirtless without shame. He always had his phone on him, just in case, sometimes things went a bit haywire and he was needed. The Kardashians were far from his hardest case, having worked from some people he was legally not allowed to name. Damn, he’d even taken a bullet for one, and the reference he’d gotten was - “good guy”. Literally two words. He’d been on a hospital operating table for three hours, only to be called a good guy. But he loved his job, in some weird and twisted way. It was fun, he got to go places he’d never imagined. Met with, talked too, and taken down people who the media didn’t even have any ideas existed. He wouldn’t admit it if he’d been secret service. It was classified. 

16 years old was pretty young to start in the industry, but he’d managed it, somehow. Lots of ass-kissing and white lies. But now he was pretty well known amongst his peers. He was able to be picky with his jobs. And big-name reality TV stars could be interesting to work for. They did pretty good Christmas presents as well. But he was growing bored, as he often did. That would be his downfall if he had to say. He always strived for more, wanted a more high-end job. That’s why he’d done that more than undercover stuff. They’d had a bit of excitement to them. But then he’d wanted something more simple, but now he wanted more, but still something simple-ish. He had a dog now. He’d made a commitment to Frankie, he couldn’t just leave. Who’d feed her?

He stretched his hand down to run over the back of the pup. She didn’t seem interested, instead chewing through the little tyre toy he’d gotten her which she was quickly destroying although it said it was indestructible. 

Keeping his eye on the Royals over the next couple of weeks, he felt his heckles rising as more and more media attention fell on the children. He understood Mary, she was the next monarch, but the boys? No, they should just be left out of the media headlines. Leave them to mourn, for god's sake. Losing a parent is never easy, but having the paparazzi butting their noses in would only make it worse, Ben imagined. But he went by his day to day life.

He’d get Khloe her coffee on the way to her place, basically just hang around her house for the day, stopping delivery drivers and demanding their IDs, taking her downtown to go shopping, taking her to the clubs he always stood on the edge of the dancefloor, taking her to get dinner with her family. Sometimes, he was able to bring Frankie along too. She made the days better. But really, he’d decided he was going to move on. After seeing the news on the royals, it had kicked started his want for a new adventure, to do something more worthwhile. Nothing against Khloe, she wasn’t bad, but there weren't really snipers out to get her, or bombs trying to be snuck into her house.

So Ben put his feelers out, wanted to see who was wanting some extra protection, but it turned out that he didn’t need to look for long. Archie Johnson, or known as AJ, reached out and contacted Ben the same evening he started looking.

“Hardy, long time no see. You good?” The familiar voice of the older man was soothing to Ben, who smiled wide and sunk further into the sofa, kicking his feet up on the battered coffee table in front of him. 

“AJ, nice to hear from you,” he greeted. He hadn’t heard off of him for years. They’d worked undercover together, the one where Ben got shot, and as Ben was pushed more into a steady, less high stakes job, Archie had gone back to his usual gig. He’d been working his way through the ranks before Ben had even been born, and was already the head of security at the palace when they’d worked together. But like him, AJ liked to have some action, and obviously, with the support of the King, he’d been let to have a bit of a runaround. “Although it’s an odd one, I do admit. It’s not often one gets a call from you”.

“You see, that’s the thing…”

And that’s how Ben had been offered a position of head guard for Joseph Francis Mazzello the Third, Prince in the royal palace.   
_____

Ben had had to move. It wasn’t fun, but it was work. He’d given Khloe a weeks notice and had actually reached out to a few security companies he knew. Although he was more of a freelance guy, he had the right contacts. He’d gotten a pretty good bonus for that. And a proposition he did turn down hastily but thanked her for non the less. He doesn't sleep with his 'bosses'.

With Frankies lead threaded through his fingers, a duffle bag over his shoulder and box on his hip, he glanced up at the building he’d be calling his home. A little run down, he noted the bricks were the odd, polluted colour that was often found in large cities, especially ones run mainly on tourism. He sighed and managed to key in the code for the front door. No lift, he’d discovered through an angry phone call from the movers. They’d brought his bigger furniture down last night, and had woken him in the middle of it with their complaints about the place he didn’t even pick for himself. It was a palace thing - they picked locations for their guards and important staff. Ben had just been down for the formal interview and physical examination. He had been informed of where he was living. So, he started up the stairs. Only three flights, he’d hardly noticed he’d climbed them.

Opening the door, he glanced around. It was nice enough to have a separate bedroom. That was about the main selling point. Obviously they’d picked it on location. He was about three streets from the palace, which basically meant that he could run there if needed. The sofa was thrown together by the builders, left in the middle of the room as they’d stormed out in anger. Eh, Ben just needed to nudge it to move it where he wanted. A good place to have the TV was all he needed. He spent most of his downtime in front of it. 

But coming with the location, the building was older than many others in the city. Although it was crammed and small after years of private ownership and creating flats, it had large windows overlooking the street. He wouldn’t be short on natural light, which he bet his house plants would be grateful for. He unclipped Frankie's lead and placed the box down on the sofa as he walked over to the panes of glass. From about his knees, they extended up high, but it worked well with the high ceilings He glanced up and yep, curtain rods. He’d need to get some, maybe he could get some cotton ones to add privacy. Not the best for the bodyguard of the prince to be able to be spied on from the street below. He’d have to remember this before he walks around shirtless. No tourist photos of his torso, thank you very much.

Kitchen - not the biggest, but there was counter space. He liked to cook when he had the chance, and he’d be able to here, he supposed. The fridge was empty, as was the oven, but still, the blond checked like anyone does when moving into a place. A small table with odd two chairs was pushed against the wall, and as he pulls one of them out, he notes how it rocks on uneven legs. Right, ok, he guessed the other one would be his favourite then. 

There’s only one other door in this place, other than the main door, and Ben wonders over, pushing it open to find the bedroom. The movers had been nice enough to rebuild his bed and put on the mattress, so he’s guessing it was the first thing they’d brought up. It wasn’t an overly large bedroom - had room either side of the bed to fit nightstands and to walk around in, a dresser against one wall and mirror atop. And as he poked his head through the other door in the bedroom, he found the cramped little ensuite. About the width of a doorway, the shower was directly to the right, sink in front and the toilet to the left. Good thing he didn’t have much of a skincare routine. He caught a glimpse of himself in the little mirror hanging above the sink and he sighed, coming back out the room and closing the door. Driving halfway across the country didn’t do him any favours. When he’d made the initial big move from one country to the next, he’d never had imagined he’d be in this position.

He should be grateful he supposed. Yet he sat down heavily on the bare mattress. He had no one here. Well, it’s not like he needed anyone, he never had, it’s what made him so good in this line of service, but once again it was starting afresh. He was in his 20’s and was yet to have a meaningful relationship. It wasn’t something he’d overly wanted, but fuck, he felt lonely. Yeah, he’d had hookups, plenty of those, but no one ever stuck around by the time he’s finished his post-sex cigarette. God, he’s even had different partners in the same night as he’s looked for some kind of connection and release, plus he didn’t have overly many proper nights off, so he often crammed everything into as short an amount of time as he could.

He sighed, rubbing scarred brittle hands over a tired face. He was meeting the Prince tomorrow. It hadn’t really sunk in that he was now on the royal payroll. Or, well, the taxpayers. How’d they react when they see the middle child has his own personal guard? In general, they seemed to love Joseph. He was a jokester, very much down to earth and goofy and more than happy to be the butt of a joke. But this would be more than that. Ben would be paid by the crown to protect him most days. AJ had decided that nights weren’t necessary unless the Prince was going somewhere, but still. 

Falling back onto the mattress, he let out a groan. He wanted adventure. Would he get it here?

\----

Black. He wore all black. Of course, he did, he was in an official state of mourning, what did Ben expect? Magic rainbow shoes and a light-up hat? He tensed his jaw and settled in position next to his friend and now boss as they watched the Prince get out of the car. He looked regal as ever, all long-limbed and perfect posture. Without even realising it, he seemed to brush down his outfit although there was no lint insight. Auburn hair was practically fire in the early morning, and even from this far away, Ben could see green in those auburn eyes.

As Prince Joseph Francis Mazzello The Third walked towards him, Ben eyed him up and down, glad for the sunglasses currently pressing against the bridge of his nose. Nothing at all seemed out of place with the royal, everything had a purpose and he had no extras with him. Sensible clothes to keep him warm, a stylish scarf to add that little more delicate touch. His stylist had done a good wardrobe of mourning for him, and is it odd that Ben felt he pulled off the look? This man had lost his father one month ago to this day, yet he could’ve easily been walking down the runway at Paris Fashion Week. But when he did come nearer, and finally dragged his eyes up Bens body, the new bodyguard noted the tired bags darkening the skin, the way amber seemed to be muddy and dropping, and the slight puffiness of them. He’d been crying. 

But now was not the time to pity the man. He didn’t deserve that.

“Your Royal Highness,” Ben ducked his head briefly in a show of respect, “Benjamin Hardy, Sir, at your service”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there we go! Both Ben and Joe now introduced! Hopefully, you guys will stick around as I throw them into poorly researched adventure! Also, yeah, this is going to be a long fic, so it's going to be a while until these idiots are getting down and frisky.  
> Shout your ideas at me!! I literally have none for right now!!!!! Plenty for later but now?? Nah, mind blank babe


	3. Chapter 3

Joe slid in the back, tucking his legs carefully into place as he waited for the others. Archie got in the other side, giving the prince a tight-lipped smile as they shared a moment between themselves until the passenger door in front opened and Ben got in. He didn’t seem to think about moving, he just did. And Joe guessed it was natural - it’s how human evolved - but Ben was graceful. The world seemed to move around him as he delicately picked his way through the air. Totally not how you’d imagine a muscle clad guy to be. 

Joe couldn’t help but glance at the curls. They seemed perfectly placed, as if a gentle brushstroke, and it pissed him off. Why the hell was his bodyguard so good looking? He scoffed, eyes instead of focusing outdoors again. This. This was something he could stare at and not get pissed off about, There were flaws with the outdoors, things he could look at and see a problem, but the deep-voiced hunk who’d now be his shadow for the foreseeable future didn’t have any. He made it his unofficial mission to find something wrong.

The car was quiet. Royal cars didn’t often have many conversations in them anymore, not after his parents' car was bugged a few years ago. The conversation made national headlines before they’d even parked up. It wasn’t even interesting. It was just about their coffee order - but the coffee shop got a massive boom out of it and was now a multi-million-dollar franchise. Harmless, but still. Bugs.

Winding through the streets in the back of the armoured car, Joe was shocked to see the city back in mourning. Flags at half-mast, people wearing black and his fathers face plastered all over the place. He hadn’t noticed any of this before, but then again, he was preoccupied before. And he guessed a month without their much-loved king was a long time.

They’d been pushing back his sisters' coronation, wanting to give her and their people the chance to mourn before moving on, but the advisors were starting to grow antsy. His father had been crowned just over two weeks after his own fathers' death. He’d always said that it had been too quick, that he’d never had the chance to mourn him, so… they waited. But their time was up, and the coronation preparations were taking place. They’d been started as his fathers' health had deteriorated, much to his annoyance, but he knew that these things took a long amount of time. A year later and they were nearing the day. Another month and his sister would be crowned Queen. Fuck that was weird. Joe's forehead thudded against the glass softly, and a slight lift of blond curls showed the glance back in the rearview mirror. 

Back gates opened again, and the car was brought around to the rear entrance of his private residence. Joe had done the whole zoning out thing again and groaned as he realised he’d missed part of his day. He needed to stop doing that. He yelped as his door was opened, and Ben stood right there, face still blank and eyes covered with those god damned sunglasses. They stared at each other (or at least Joe thinks Ben stared back at him, but he can't be sure) until the prince jumped out the SUV and turned swiftly on his heel to march towards his door. He’d been caught out by his staff having a moment of weakness. He groaned to himself, not bothering to hold open the door and making Archie grab it for the others to come through.

Ben was to be given a tour - looking into Joe's private life to choose what invasive security gear needed to be added. Joe had managed to keep Archie from doing anything, had dodged questions and the subject and pretended he didn’t need anything, so for this new blond to come into his life and take what little privacy he had away made Joe's skin crawl.

The kitchen was first, and Joe flapped his hand around and gave a general introduction before he turned around and shut up. Those god damned sunglasses had been taken off, now hanging teasingly from the collar of Bens shirt, and as Joe glanced up, he caught green eyes staring at him. Joe had never seen such soft green before; it could nearly be mistaken for grey, or blue, or maybe hazel? They seemed to shift colour very delicately with each blink of those awfully long eyelashes. It’s normal to want to count someone's eyelashes, right? Because he is willing to waste a whole day doing so. They somehow made the angel comparison eve easier. This guy looked like he was a living Michelangelo statue. 

Joe cleared his throat, looking away as quickly as he could to try and save some of the dignity he might have left. “Here’s the kitchen. Cooker, fridge, sink,” he pointed at each appliance as if Ben was stupid and didn’t know what any of them looked like. He opened each cupboard to show the dusty plates, the half-used bags of pasta, the going off tub of salsa. He didn’t have much in the way of proper food - the kitchens did most of the cooking for him - but a whole cabinet was taken up by wines, another by different alcohols. He grinned as Ben wrinkled his nose. Joe was sure the Brit didn’t even know he did it, but Joe was glad to see that he was actually human and showed emotions. 

Ben walked around the kitchen island, running a finger on the underside of the worktop and hummed, turning to Archie and tapping on a certain spot. Archie just nodded, and Joe was left confused until the gruff voice spoke up; 

“A listening device could easily be placed here without you noticing,” Ben glanced down and tapped again, “we’ll have to put a scrambling audio maker within this room to ensure that doesn’t happen. Should cover the utility room we entered through as well,” curls bounced, one slipping down to tease over Ben's forehead, and it took Joe a moment to look at where he was nodded towards, which was just the utility. His coats and shoes were kept in there, along with anything else he had nowhere else to put. Joe turned to argue that it wasn’t needed, that no one would want to listen to his coats, but the little frown between his eyebrows only deepened when Ben cut across him before he could speak with a “non-negotiable”.

“Now just wait-” Joe stepped forward, hands on the island that separated them, Ben still standing with one finger pressed to that same damn place on the worktop, but Archie spoke up before Ben could.

“It’s non-negotiable. It’s a weakness that we have been asked to strengthen for yours and your families safety, and Mr Hardy is currently best in the business at personal security. Sorry Joe, but these discussions are more for him and me,” at least Archie had the decency to actually look somewhat apologetic, Mr Hardy just quirked an eyebrow.

“So what, I’m here to be a tour guide?” Joe asked Ben, who just gave a small shrug. Joe huffed and rolled his eyes. “You’re not even taking notes! I’m showing-”

“Personally, I don’t believe having a detailed, written report of his royal highnesses private quarters is a good idea,” Ben cuts over him, his other eyebrow settling high with his first, and Joes went deeper down over his eyes.

“Fuck you,” he jabbed Ben in the chest, then turned to Archie, “and fuck you for getting this dickhead. You show him around, as I don’t get a say in any of this.” Joe took this as his own cue to leave the room, and he stormed out, being like a bratty child and slamming the door after him as he weaved his way through to his bedroom, throwing himself onto his bed and trying to stop himself from totally losing it. Why did it have to be today?

He isn’t sure how much time has gone by, but Joe is staring at the wall when he hears a soft knock on the door. He pushes himself up, running a hand over his hair as the door is pushed open, and Ben pokes his head around it, looking at Joe for a moment before he sighs and signals for Ben to come in. 

The blond does, staying by the entrance and standing to attention, legs shoulder-width apart and hands clasped in front of his hips. Green eyes flicker around the room, slightly turning his head as he looks for anything amiss, but he doesn’t speak, not yet.

“You putting up a lot of spyware in my home?” Joe pushed up to stand, going to tidy up some of his underwear spilling out his draws. His cheeks heated up as he notes how untidy his room is. He still hasn’t opened his curtains.

“We are trying to keep it to a minimum, sir-” Ben starts, but a shaking hand in his direction had him pouting.

“There’s no ‘sir’ here. I hate that word. If it’s informal, you can call me Joe. Not Joseph, that’s not me, and not your highness either. Only Joe lives in my home”.

Ben gulps and licks his lips, readjusting his stance a little. “We’re trying to keep it a minimum, Joe,” he starts again, pausing a little but he doesn’t get told off again, “a few cameras in entranceways, motion sensors in most rooms. We will have to get some other forms of monitoring for your… private rooms, just to ensure that there are no break-ins, but we are looking into the less intrusive versions”.

Joe sighed, wobbling his draw until it closes. He sighs again. “Sounds way too much but I guess it’s what we’re paying you for. Keep me safe from the dangerous weirdos, yeah?”

Ben makes a confirming noise and watches the back of his new boss. They hadn’t started off on the right foot. He’d come into headstrong, but he hoped they could get to a good professional relationship where they can trust each other fully.

“So you came up here to say that? Or is there something else you want, Hardy?” Joe turned, resting on his dresser, “and for god’s sake, stand down - I’m not some Army General you gotta suck off.”

Ben frowned briefly but covered it up, relaxing his stance but not going off guard. “Ben, call me Ben”

“Yeah, whatever. What you got to tell me?” Joe crossed his arms over his chest. He couldn’t figure this guy out and it was pissing him off.

“I need to examine these two rooms, and I would like for you to show me. I am not trying to step on your toes, I’m just trying to keep all threats at bay,” he keeps his eyes steady with Joe, who stares back for a while before he huffs. A single nod, he pushes off the furniture, coming to stand by his shadow, who stiffens up once again. “Bedroom,” he starts, “only one way in and out so you don’t have to worry. There was a walk-in wardrobe but that was bricked up when I remodelled. That door,” he nods towards the one other doorway here, only a few steps away, “is the bathroom. Again, the only way in and out of there is through here”.

Ben hums, noting that there is most definitely more than one way in here, including the large windows, the ventilation shafts (although that is unlikely, but a possibility), and an impressive sized fireplace. He glanced at Joe, who looked back at him, and with an eye-roll, nodded and let Ben step forward. The first thing he did was look at the fireplace. Bars had already been voted in, stopping any intruders from dropping directly in, but up top, there was nothing. More bars would be needed, likely with some added spikes on the roof. Next, he was craning his neck up to look in the vents. They wouldn’t fit a person, regardless of what the films say, but they could fir a weapon or other devices. He needed the blueprints to find out where they lead. Better to leave the fiddles in this room at a minimum. The windows, after a close inspection, were already reinforced, which was good, but he’d still like to put some sensors here to reduce the risk even more. 

After he was done, he fell back into position next to Joe, who’d been watching him the entire time. He was right before when he said Ben was graceful. Even when climbing into a fireplace or shoving his face against some glass, all his movements seemed calculated. He seemed to blend into any location, and, well, that was his job. 

Wordlessly, he moved into the bathroom with Ben. The toothpaste stains were still there from this morning, and he needed to get a new toilet paper and pick up his towels, but he was in mourning and Ben didn’t mention anything. 

“It’s only small, you shouldn’t have to put much in here. Pretty sure no ones bugged my shampoos,” Joe chuckles slightly at his lame joke. It wasn’t funny at all.

“It’s bigger than my entire flat,” Ben looked up at the high ceilings, delicate paintwork woven into the corners and leading onto the walls. A full-sized tub sat in the middle of one wall, benches either side built into the architecture. The shower alone was bigger than Bens bathroom, with multiple shower heads glinting gold in the light. A big window hung above the sink, casting the room in natural daylight, even though the light curtains hung across them for privacy, Little photo frames sat on the window frame, and Ben noted how many there were around the entire residence. Joe seemed to have a thing for them. The toilet was the most down to earth thing on appearance, but as Ben did his walk around, he got a little startled as the toilet seat rose. He looked at Joe, who was openly giggling at his surprise, and Ben just tugged on his shirt and carried on.

There wasn’t much to do in this room either, but still, some improvements were needed. He had them all noted in his head, and as soon as he can, will be sorted when he can get them all sorted and organised. He’d probably move into the little room downstairs when the service workers are here to ensure the highest level of safety and will work closely with the security team to ensure that it’s all smooth.

He goes back to Joe, and they stare at each other again, before the Prince takes a slight step away and they retreat from the sleeping quarters. 

“I understand that you’re meeting Ms Boynton in the next few days?” Ben speaks again as they’re walking down the stairs.

“You’re my shadow, shouldn’t you know?”

“I do, but I was just speaking about it, rather than speaking at you,” the blond could see the annoyance in Joe's shoulders, and charted down at how long it would take for them to have a bond.

“Well yes, me and Luce are meeting. She’s over for the coronation, so.. It’ll be great to see her,” Joe got to the bottom and went straight to his living room, jumping over the sofa back and flipping on the TV. He makes no invitation for Ben to join him, so he made no move to go near him.

“I will be present, but you’ll have your privacy,” Ben watched the slight pause in flipping channels, but Joe didn’t speak up. “I will be at your side more often than not. Events, public, parties, or even just meeting with people. I know you likely won’t like it, but for now… that will have to be our agreement.”

Joe huffed, stopping his channel surfing on some nature documentary as a lion rips into the backside of a gazelle. Red hair pops over the back of the sofa, and Ben feels like he’s staring directly at a lion in the flesh. “If you mess up even a little, you’re out. Archie will hear every complaint, so don’t give me anything to complain about,” Joe looked Ben up and down, “that’s out agreement. Now, am I at an event, a party or in public? No? I don’t need you here now. You know all the exits - pick one and get out”. Joe turns back to look at the screen, but Ben can tell he isn’t actually watching it right now. Blond hair ducks in a bow, and Ben walks out the room backwards, thinking how much of a dick the prince is as he does indeed pick an exit and leaves.


	4. Chapter 4

“Will you stop staring at my guard?” Joe hated how quick he got sick of saying that to his betrothed. Lucy Boynton was of another well known and well respected royal family, and as soon as she’d been born, it had been arranged that she and Joseph Francis Mazzello The Third would be wed to strengthen the bond between the powerhouses of the world. 

They got on well. Had very similar senses of humour, similar morals and both happened to be the second in line for the throne of their respective countries. They’d make an attractive match if they didn’t see each other as a brother/sister dynamic. 

Lounging on the overly squishy sofa, Lucy had her feet tucked under Joe's thighs and was making a terrible attempt at being subtle as she looked over the back of the furniture and stared directly at Ben, who was flanking the doorway as they waited for transport to come around.

“No. He’s hot,” she prodded Joe's leg with her toe as he swatted her calf. 

“It’s rude to objectify people by their appearance,” neither was bothering to keep their voices down. They were allowed to have conversations like normal people. Ben wouldn’t even hear them if he wasn’t so picky about the security. He’d been following after the two the entire time they were hanging out. If not in the same room, he was outside the door, yet never spoke unless spoken too. 

“Well, yes, but…” Lucy does one more full look over Ben before she ducks back down on the sofa, staring at Joe, who was trying his best to keep his eyes forward on the TV. It didn’t last long, and she saw his lip quirk up a couple of times before a small laugh escaped, and he turned to look at Lucy, who smiled back before they both laughed. They weren’t laughing at anything in particular, they didn’t have too, but sometimes there was nothing to laugh about. 

It was nice, actually, to feel like laughing again. He didn’t feel guilty about it either, and Joe was thankful for that. Thankful for Lucy. She knew how to make him feel like a normal guy when no one else did. There was always that air of uncertainty when meeting a royal, especially when they’re not the main royal, but there hadn’t been any of that here. When Joe and Lucy first met many years ago, they greeted each other like old friends and that was that. No awkwardness around either.

“Transport is ready, Joe,” Ben speaks up for the first time. He’d been there when Lucy had arrived, just stared her down before he stepped to the side and had let her in. No ‘hello’ or ‘I’m Mr Hardy, certified prick and asshole’, no, there’d been a gruff nod and tight posture, awkwardly standing in the doorway as he eavesdropped into their conversation.

Joe huffed and got up, offering a hand to Lucy and got her off the sofa. They walked out together without looking at his guard, who automatically shifted out the way to let them through. Even if Lucy didn’t agree with Joe being an asshole, she knew this was a very personal thing for him. He didn’t like people in on his little privacy - he’d grown up in the public eye, people who didn’t know him believing they do just from some paparazzi shots and public statements. There were people who lusted after him simply for his links to the crown, and fuck, he’d even had people camp outside whatever residence he’s stayed at to have some form of ‘claim’ over him. So, Joe was protective over his privacy. And now he had an unwanted shadow following him around and knowing his every move. 

The car journey consisted of the two royals in the back having a chatty conversation about nothing and the driver and guard up front speaking about nothing and staring out the windows. The car they were taking today wasn’t special - yes, it was armoured and had concealed weapons and all that, but it was made to look civilian. It eased people’s minds to see normal cars on normal streets doing normal things. Was better than causing unneeded unrest or attention. So, really, they had a normal drive in their normal car as they went out for a normal date at a not so normal restaurant. 

As soon as Joe stepped out, he saw the team. He sighed as he rebuttoned his jacket with a single finger, more to have feigned compliance than anything else. Of course Hardy would turn this fucking restaurant inside out before Joe even got here. He turned to glare at the man in charge, who just ignored the prince and checked the surroundings. 

Lucy got out of the car after Joe and took his offered hand, sensing his annoyance and leant in to kiss his cheek softly. “Let's just get inside and forget about him,” she smiled as she pulled back, Joes expression softening as his best friend spoke, “it’s not like he’s going to sit at the table with us”

\--

“I fucking hate you,” Joe glared at Ben, who was, in fact, sitting at the table with them, smugly sipping his espresso as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to do.

“I’m not here for you to like me, I’m here to keep you alive,” Ben wasn’t even looking at them, but instead had his eyes on the staff door. He had an off feeling about this place, even if the pre-sweep found nothing wrong. 

“That’s bloody fantastic,” Joe grumbled, rolling his eyes at the snark of the man. Hadn’t he warned him only a couple of days ago to stay on his good side? Yet here he was, being a dick like usual and stopping him from enjoying a lovely meal with his closest friend as he tries to wrap his mind around the knowledge that in a couple of days, his sister will be crowned monarch. “What have you got to protect me from here? A gone off cucumber? A butter knife attack?”

“Poison, assination, attempted kidnapping, and yeah, maybe a knife attack thrown into the mix,” Ben sipped that damn coffee and tapped a couple times on the table and Joe sighed, dropping his spoon into the soup he had been enjoying.

“How the hell have I managed to survive without you before?” He quirked an eyebrow at Ben and gestured into the air, “could’ve tripped up a stairwell or accidentally swallowed arsenic or even-

“Honestly I have no idea how you’ve made it this far-” Ben turned his attention to Joe, who just glared at the perfect man in front of him. And Joe knew he was physically flawless because he’s stared enough trying to find that flaw.

“You’re a dick, Hardy-”

“Thank you, Sir-”

“Oh my g-”

“Stop it! Both of you!” Lucy cut across and threateningly pointed her soup spoon at the two men sat at her table. “Joseph, grow up, and Hardy, stop speaking and do your job. If someone comes at us with a butter knife, it’s better you see it rather than bitching”.

Both men closed their mouths, but Ben diverted his eyes first, going back to staring at that door with a slight pout on his lips. Joe just went back to eating, and yeah, maybe he did slurp his soup a little noisily on purpose. It was just ridiculous how much Ben was smothering him. But what he didn’t know was as the coronation drew closer, the amounts of threats and negative speculation were growing, which had already led to a few sleepless nights for the security teams with meetings after meetings. What did Joe think Ben did when he wasn’t at his side? At the moment, it was sat at a desk or table, arguing his points on some form of freedom for the Prince, and most the times being shut down.

Although AJ was close to Ben, they still argued. They butted heads over most things, both stubborn arses who took their jobs way too seriously, and in the couple of days they’ve worked together again, a tally for arguments had been started by the staff and it’s already in double digits.

So, even if Ben argued that Joe should be allowed out of his residency, should have some freedom and be able to go on a ‘date’, he still has to sit here in the way of a bullet or to jump in the path of a flying knife. It’s the only way that there’d been an agreement. AJ was overly protective of the Mazzello children, saw them as some soft ducklings that could be harmed at any moment, and Ben knew that if anything happened to Joe, it would be his own fault.

Yay. Fun work things.

Ben finished off his espresso and quirked an eyebrow at one of the sous chefs peeking through the kitchen door window. The kid ducked back down, only to reappear again shortly afterwards, looking at Ben and then darting his eyes to Joe. Bens heckles raised, and he frowned, slowly lowering his cup back to the table as the kid disappears again.

Joe frequented this restaurant, loved it since he was a child, so it’d be an easy target to aim for. That’s why a sweep had been ordered. It was overkill, he knew that, but if it kept AJ happy, then Ben would do it. But he felt uneasy. Something was off. And he just realised why.

That kid doesn’t work here.

“Ah fuck,” Ben whispered, Joe glancing over at him but not saying anything. He sighed, still looking at the door even when the guy was gone, and raised his arm up. There was a hidden microphone built into the cuff of his work jacket, and yeah, it was very James Bond-y, but it was useful. “Block back entrances. Scrawny kid, caucasian, grey eyes and greasy skin, 5”11 at a guess, maybe taller” he spoke clearly and saw from the corner of his eyes as a few of the undercover team moved out, one of the suits going through into the kitchens.

“Sorry sir, we have to go,” Ben turned to Joe now, who glared at the formal name, but could see the no shit attitude. Joe sighed heavily, putting his spoon down carefully before standing up carefree.

“What’s going on?” Lucy asked, but followed suit, taking Joe's hand as he offered it to her.

“Car, now,” Ben nudged Joe to go forward, and with another grumble he did.

Joe didn’t like being told what to do but had had enough training before to know to remain calm in these situations but to continue to move. Lucy fell in step beside him, holding tightly as Joe thanked the hostess, and stepped out onto the street, taking a few more steps and was let into the car.

Ben was in the front seat by the time Joe and Lucy had settled, and the driver took off quickly, cautious of the cars around them as the bodyguard next to him sent off texts and reports to multiple people.

“Fucking christ, Hardy, what spooked you?” Joe suddenly outburst, kicking the seat in front of him and Ben looked through the mirror at him.

“Unspecified personnel in the kitchen is what spooked me,” green eyes rolled and hazel glared, but Ben carried on. “Someone who could’ve easily slipped something into your food without anyone noticing, sir”

“What, like, I dunno, some pepper? Oregano? Maybe he was just a chef or something, doing what chefs do!” Joe leant forward, making Ben turn his head to look at the man, noses nearly touching as they practically growled at each other.

“All staff present today have had to be checked over by the team to make sure we knew who was where doing what. This kid was not one of those - I couldn’t take that sort of risk!” Everyone had been checked beforehand, another one of AJs requirements, so the fact that Ben hadn’t seen that face before was a red flag. And the way he’d been overly interested in Joe had been another. 

“This hasn’t happened before! Not even when dad was sick were the goddamned waiters checked over! Why now, huh? Why suddenly since you’ve appeared are you having to make my life hell?” Joe was pissed off. Yeah, he really was. He’d been a little annoyed before, Ben being like an itch behind his ear, but now Joe was certain he’s ready to punch this perfect face.

Ben stared at Joe, really looked him dead in the eye. Did he tell him about the pipe bomb they’d found outside the walls? Or the death threat graffiti his sister had woken up too? Or even the sniper rifle threateningly left out for the team to find on their daily sweep of the grounds? He sighed and turned to look out at the road ahead. No. No, he didn’t. 

Joe huffed and sat back down again, biting his knuckles as he glared out the window. Lucy sat, staring out her side, but kept a hold of Joe's hand and gave it a few gentle squeezes. It’ll be ok. 

She hoped.

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter is an introduction to Ben!
> 
> Scream at me, my loves, and hopefully I'll be back soon with the next chapter. Currently, there is no posting schedule, but that may change, and if so, I'll let you know.
> 
> borhapbois on tumblr, if you want to scream at me to a more personal level


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